


longing for grapefruit

by sharkfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marijuana, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 08:26:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: Dean lights up and takes the first hit, but instead of exhaling, he leans over towards Cas. It’s not a proper kiss, breathing in Dean’s air, but it’s intimate, and they take turns sharing hits in between kisses.Cas is flying. Cas can feel everything, Cas is out of his body. “Baby,” Dean says, soft in between them. “Let me make you feel good.”





	longing for grapefruit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [remmyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/remmyme/gifts), [suckerfordeansfreckles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckerfordeansfreckles/gifts).



> based on prompts from [suckerfordeansfreckles](http://suckerfordeansfreckles.tumblr.com) and [remmyme](http://remmyme.tumblr.com)

**Cas:** I’m sorry, but I need your help.

 **Dean:** What’s up?

 **Cas:** Meg invited me to a party and it’s not going well.

 **Dean:** Address?

Cas sends his location and

 **Cas:** I’m outside.

 

Cas’s phone dings a couple times, Meg asking where he ran off to, but he ignores it and hides in shadow instead, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths. He figures he’ll survive the half hour it’ll take Dean to get here, just like he’s survived before, so he’s a little confused when Dean’s car thunders up twenty minutes later.

Dean’s hazards flash, but he doesn’t bother closing the door, instead rushing up to Cas with worried eyes. “Hey, hey,” he says, pulling Cas into a hug. “You’re ok.”

Cas hates being touched, except most of the time he likes when Dean touches him, and he melts into Dean’s warmth and the scent of his aftershave and leather jacket.

“You wanna go home?”

“Yes, please.”

Dean hums along to the radio and doesn’t make Cas talk on the way back to Cas’s place. He’s grateful for it, like he’s always grateful for Dean’s companionable silence.

Dean follows Cas into his little house, shrugging off his jacket and pulling off his boots at the doorway and then shuffling into the kitchen. Cas follows, blushing at the dishes piled in the sink, but Dean just grabs a beer and makes Cas chocolate milk.

“I brought weed, too,” Dean says, passing the cup over to Cas. It’s the perfect shade of barely-brown, just the smallest bit of chocolate, stirred with a butter knife.

“Yes, let’s,” Cas says, and they go back to the couch, Dean brandishing the weed. Cas doesn’t keep it around his own house, and he’s not sure if it’s the weed or just Dean that calms him down, but he never declines when Dean offers.

Dean rolls a joint and passes it to Cas for the first hit. Cas coughs like he usually does, and Dean scoots closer to him on the couch, their shoulders pressed together.

Cas turns on the tv, something they’ve seen before. He waits a few hits, until his limbs and eyelids are getting heavy, before he says, “Meg was trying to fix me up with a guy.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean says. He’s slumped so his head is almost resting on Cas’s shoulder. If Cas barely turns his head, he can smell his shampoo.

“He was… unpleasant.”

Dean snorts. “You’re so damn diplomatic. He was a dick, you mean?”

“Yes. He was a dick.”

“And then you got all —” Dean says, gesturing vaguely as if to encompass Cas’s fears, Cas’s sadnesses.

“Yes,” Cas says quietly.

Dean squeezes Cas’s knee. “Sorry, dude. But I’m cooler than anyone Meg knows anyway.”

The joint is burned down to nothing, but neither of them move to roll a new one, Dean’s hand still on Cas’s leg, the tickle of his hair on Cas’s jaw.

“That’s true,” Cas says, and then, “Oh, shit. Did I ruin your date?”

“Not a date,” Dean says. “A thing at my brother’s work. I was looking for an excuse to get out of there.”

“No whiskey to keep you company?”

Dean tilts his head towards Cas, and Cas can feel the warmth of his breath. “No, no _you_ to keep me company.”

Cas flushes. Dean is very, very beautiful, and Cas has been in love with him almost since the night they met, where Dean left behind a crowd at Charlie’s house to sit in a dark corner of the backyard with Cas, not talking about anything of consequence until Cas remembered how to live inside his body again. By the time they got up, night dew had soaked the back of their jeans and the house was mostly clear.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs, and Cas looks down at him, trying not to let his racing heart show. “I know you’re not really into anyone but — I’d like to kiss you. If you wanted.”

Now Cas’s heart stops. His thoughts, too, which had still been whirling a bit, even as everything got heavier.

Before he can let fear rear back into the front of his mind, Cas kisses Dean.

Slow, easy. Dean’s hand raises to cradle Cas’s jaw. He tastes bitter like beer and sweet like blueberry weed. Cas has never wanted a kiss to _never stop_ like this before.

“Mm,” Dean says, bumping their noses together. “Wow, Cas.”

Cas nods and kisses Dean again.

Slow and easy, again and again, time warping the way it does sometimes. Cas doesn’t worry about the possibility that Dean only wants to kiss him because he’s stoned and smiling.

They break apart, and Dean leans over to the end table to work on another joint. “More?”

“Yes,” Cas says.

Dean lights up and takes the first hit, but instead of exhaling, he leans over towards Cas. It’s not a proper kiss, breathing in Dean’s air, but it’s intimate, and they take turns sharing hits in between kisses.

Cas is flying. Cas can feel everything, Cas is out of his body. “Baby,” Dean says, soft in between them. “Let me make you feel good.”

Cas almost always hates surprises — hates not feeling prepared to every contingency — but he doesn’t mind at all not knowing the specifics, just nods and draws Dean into another kiss.

Dean breaks the kiss to pull Cas’s shirt off, then kisses slowly down his neck, his hand squeezing Cas’s hip. Cas doesn’t know what sex with Dean is like usually, but he never expected less than Dean as an attentive lover. Cas is back in his body just to feel Dean’s touch as he moves down Cas’s body without hurry.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Dean says, as breathless as Cas is. He goes down to his knees on the floor, and Cas stares, barely comprehending, while Dean undoes Cas’s belt, button and fly. “Is this ok?”

“Yes,” Cas says, and Dean flashes him a bashful smile before pulling Cas’s jeans and then his boxers off.

“Goddamn,” Dean says when Cas’s cock bobs free. He wraps his hand around it, strokes loosely, and Dean’s mouth closing around the head of Cas’s cock pulls him out of the thinny he spends so much of his time in.

Cas’s toes curl and his hand ends up in Dean’s hair. Dean takes this just as slow and sweet as everything else, taking Cas into his mouth in increments, then pulling off to trail his mouth down the underside of Cas’s cock.

“You good up there?” Dean says, smiling, his hands on the top of Cas’s thighs.

“Pretty, pretty, pretty good,” Cas says.

Dean laughs, tossing his head back in a way that makes him almost tumble onto his ass. “Cool cool cool,” he says, grinning, and licks from the base of Cas’s cock to the tip.

Cas’s hand goes back to Dean’s hair and clenches. “Oh — Dean,” Cas gasps.

Dean hums in response and it buzzes like lightning under Cas’s skin. It’s so good — it’s the best Cas has ever felt during sex — even when Dean finds the perfect touch, he backs off before Cas can shake apart.

Dean takes a break to catch his breath, his hand stroking Cas’s cock, wet with spit. “Christ, look at you,” Dean says, looking up with hooded eyes. “You going to let me do this again?”

Cas licks his lips. Heat is pooling in his gut, tingling outwards. “I — would like that,” he manages to say.

Dean smiles, and he takes Cas’s cock into his mouth again, his tongue pressing and rubbing in a way that makes Cas’s hand jerk, makes him say urgently, “Dean —”

Cas crests and crashes like a wave at the base of a cliff, never taking his eyes off Dean as he swallows around him.

Dean sits back on his heels and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You have a really nice dick.”

Cas laughs and laughs, something bubbling light in his heart, and he manages to clamber down onto the floor with Dean to kiss him. Dean still tastes a little like beer, more like smoke, and most like Cas.

“My turn,” Cas says, pulling Dean’s shirt over his head and shoving him onto the floor to wrestle with his jeans.

“Hey!” Dean says, laughing and wiggling his hips like that’s helpful to get out of his pants. “I don’t need a concussion from bouncing my head off the floor. Or a broken tailbone. Or —”

“Shut up,” Cas growls, and Dean’s teeth click shut and eyes widen.

Cas doesn’t think he’s very good at this, which is made worse because he spends the whole time worrying about not being good at it, but Dean whines and arches his back when Cas gently sucks the head of Dean’s cock. It’s hard, dark, curving proud towards his belly, and Cas is high enough to leave his anxieties behind. Just this once.

Dean isn’t quiet like Cas, instead gasping and whimpering, murmuring praise, murmuring _like that, like that._ His thumb caresses Cas’s cheek, and then traces the edge of Cas’s lips around his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean says, his whole body tensing and then releasing when he comes, eyes squeezed shut.

Cas swallows and tries to hide a grimace behind his hand, but Dean laughs, and jerks Cas down to the floor with him, giving him an affectionate kiss. “Sorry,” Dean says. “I’ll warn you better next time.”

Dean smiles. Cas smiles back. The moment feels bright, feels heavy, and then Dean says, “This floor is uncomfortable as hell.”

Somehow they both manage to stumble back onto the couch, back to their original position with shoulders slumped together, just without clothes this time, and Dean takes Cas’s hand to weave their fingers together.

“You know, I’ve never had sex with Eddie Izzard in the background,” Dean says.

Cas puts on his best affected British accent and says, “I long for a grapefruit.”

“I’ll give you a grapefruit,” Dean says, waggling his eyebrows until they both burst into laughter, and before the special finishes, they’re ignoring it to kiss again instead.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [reallyelegantsharkfish on tumblr](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com) & gmail
> 
>  
> 
> [rebloggable tumblr post](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com/post/180242172050/longing-for-grapefruit-on-ao3-fears-weed-and)


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